Spring has not sprung

So, there I was, having a lovely Sunday walk, admiring both the snowdrops and the daffodils, and all the while pushing aside the nagging feeling that this might not be the right state of affairs for the beginning of February.

I shouldn't have worried. Things came right this morning. I walked to work amidst the freezing fog rolling across the Thames, which was making the swans go fluffy as they tried to keep out the cold.

And, bizarrely enough, I rather enjoyed it. Really cold weather has been so rare this winter, that I quite enjoyed the feeling of being properly dressed in a coat and scarf, rather than feeling a bit too bundled up for the clement weather.

Normally by this time of year I'd be at my most miserable. In fact, if I look back at my posts from February last year, I see that I was considerably less cheerful, although this might have been due to the rather longer commute I was undertaking when I started the blog. But I think the only thing I'm enjoying about the cold weather is the fact that there's only been a very small amount of it.

I'm off up a mountain next week, with planks stuck to the end of my legs in a most unnatural way. I expect this will bring my love affair with the winter to an abrupt end, as I'm really much more of a summer person.

In fact, if this is global warming, it's very pleasant. Maybe I should increase my carbon footprint rather than doing the opposite. Back to your cars everyone!